


Five Things That Aren’t Allowed in the Offices of Nelson & Murdock (But Usually Happen Anyway)

by poisonivory



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: 5 Times, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 02:08:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9527144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisonivory/pseuds/poisonivory
Summary: Exactly what it says on the tin.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A [Fandom Together](http://pluckyredhead.tumblr.com/post/153191952504/pluckyredhead-pluckyredhead-hi-friends) ficlet for **electriceell** , who requested "office shenanigans."

**1\. “Testing” Matt’s Powers**

“But it’s such a nice day,” Foggy whined.

“It’ll still be a nice day after you finish reading up on those precedents and we are present for our two o’clock meeting like responsible attorneys who want to eat this month,” Matt said calmly, fingers moving steadily over his refreshable braille display.

“I want a snack.”

“Karen is getting coffee.”

“Come on, teach. Can’t we have class outside?”

Matt’s lips twitched, but he heroically fought off the encroaching smile. “Sorry.”

“You’re no fun,” Foggy pouted.

A second later he was balling up the nearest piece of scrap paper and tossing it at Matt’s head. Matt snatched it out of the air without looking up.

Foggy gave a delighted laugh. “Actually, come to think of it, this could be pretty fun.”

“Do _not_ ,” Matt started to say, and caught Foggy’s thrown pen, “start throwing,” a crumpled-up napkin, “random things at me,” an apple.

“I’m _helping_ you,” Foggy said. “Think of this like training. We have to know how good your senses are at detecting projectiles aimed at your head, right?”

“I’m well aware of their range, thanks,” Matt drawled. “You know I don’t actually need your help with this.”

He had the feeling Foggy was raising his eyebrows. “Huh. Sounds like _someone_ don’t think he can take everything I give him.”

Matt paused.

Then he pushed his chair back and stood up. “Okay,” he said. “Bring it.”

Ten minutes later he was parkouring around the office, bouncing off the walls and furniture to catch every random item Foggy lobbed into the air. Foggy giggled breathlessly as he scooped up a calculator and chucked it at Matt’s head - just as Matt head footsteps in the hall outside.

He froze.

The door opened. “ - think you’ll be very impressed with Mr. Murdock and Mr. Nelson,” Karen was saying to their new client as they walked in.

The calculator bounced off Matt’s forehead and clattered to the ground.

“Eep!” said Foggy.

*

“Oh well,” said Foggy twenty minutes later. “There are other clients.”

*

**2\. Culinary or Scientific “Experimentation” Involving the Kitchenette Microwave**

“I am going,” Matt announced dramatically, “to _die_.”

Karen frowned at him. “You said you only got stabbed ‘fleetingly’ last night. Which I don’t think is an appropriate modifier in this situation, but still.”

“Not from _that_ ,” Matt said, waving a hand as if his skin being perforated by goons with knives was an implausible cause of death. “No, I’m going to die because _somebody_ \- ” he raised his voice “ - decided to use the office microwave for his audition for _Chopped_ last night.”

“You know, I may not have super hearing, but I can still tell when you’re being passive aggressive at a normal volume,” Foggy said placidly from his office. “You don’t need to shout.”

“Curries from three different cuisines do not go together!” Matt said. “In fact, curries from _any_ cuisine should not be reheated in the office microwave! Do it at home!” He paused. “No, wait, I visit your apartment. Do it at Marci’s.”

Foggy batted his eyelashes at Karen, because it would’ve been a wasted move on Matt. “I didn’t realize this was an open relationship, but all right.”

“If you could smell what I smell…”

“Is it better or worse than gunpowder?” Foggy asked.

Matt’s mouth snapped shut. Karen, who had been giggling behind her hand, looked from Matt to Foggy and back to Matt again. “Wait, what?”

Foggy rested his chin on his hands, smiling beatifically. “Matthew, did you not tell our silent partner about the homemade explosives you created here last weekend?”

“WHAT.”

Matt glowered in Foggy’s direction. “Dirty pool, Nelson.”

“MATT.”

Matt turned back to Karen, spreading his hands with a guileless expression. “Okay, in my defense they were just flash grenades, and they worked very well in stopping those arms dealers I took down on Tuesday.”

Karen scowled at him. “...I’m giving myself a raise.”

“That’s fair.”

*

**3\. Excessive Bleeding**

“...so Matt and I will speak to the opposing counsel, and I think we’ll be able to settle this in your favor by the end of the week,” Foggy said, smiling at Mrs. Gupta across the conference room table.

She beamed. “Thank you both so much. I know how hard you’ve worked on this, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

Matt gave her his good Catholic boy smile. “It was our pleasure,” he said, reaching across the table to shake her hand.

Foggy glanced over at Matt and blanched. “Yep, yep, it was great, love that hard work, but I’m afraid we have another meeting coming up so Karen will just show you out. _Karen!_ ”

Karen appeared in the doorway, looking perplexed. She wasn’t the only one - Matt had his “confused terrier” expression on, and Mrs. Gupta was staring at Foggy. “Yes?”

“Can you please help Mrs. Gupta with any paperwork, _at your desk_ , and then walk her out?” Foggy said, lifting his eyebrows at her significantly.

“Uh...sure. Right this way, Mrs. Gupta,” Karen said, gesturing to her desk.

The minute they were out of the conference room, Foggy closed the door, locked it, and yanked back the side of Matt’s jacket to reveal that his white shirt was soaked through with blood - visible only when Matt leaned forward just right. “Matt!”

Matt winced. “Stitches aren’t holding, huh?”

“I can’t believe you,” Foggy hissed, pushing the jacket off Matt’s shoulders and helping him ease out of it. “You said you were fine!”

“I thought I was,” Matt protested. Foggy started to unbutton his shirt. “Hey, no hanky-panky in the office.”

“You really wanna test me right now, Murdock?”

Matt bit his lip. Foggy got his shirt unbuttoned and tugged it back to reveal a three-inch gash in Matt’s side, bleeding merrily on one end through popped stitches.

“Jesus.”

“It’s not that bad,” Matt tried. “Even Claire said so.”

“Couldn’t you tell it was bleeding again? Couldn’t you smell it? Didn’t it _hurt?_ ” Foggy asked. Matt hesitated. “What.”

“I always smell at least a little bit like blood, these days,” Matt said. “And…”

“...And you always hurt,” Foggy finished for him, and Matt nodded. Foggy sighed and leaned forward to rest his forehead against Matt’s temple. “Oh, Matty.”

“I’m sorry,” Matt said.

“You’d hurt worse if you didn’t go out there,” Foggy said. “Of course, that doesn’t mean we can have you scaring our clients away by bleeding all over them. I’d say I’ll check you over before our meetings, but that might lead to breaking the hanky-panky rule.”

Matt smiled, and turned his head to meet Foggy’s lips. “I’m willing to risk it.”

*

**4\. Pets**

“A dog,” Foggy said.

“You know I don’t need a dog, Foggy,” Matt said.

“Screw you, Murdock, _I_ want a dog!” Foggy said. “This office could use a mascot. Besides Daredevil, I mean.”

“I am not a mascot,” Matt said, hiding a smile.

“Well, then, we definitely need a dog.”

“Oh, can we please get a dog?” Karen asked. “A therapy dog! Who in this office doesn’t need a therapy dog, honestly.”

“Or therapy,” Foggy pointed out.

“Dog’s cheaper.”

“True.”

“No dogs!” Matt protested, but he was laughing outright now.

“Cat?” Foggy suggested. Matt shook his head.

“Parakeet?” Karen tried.

“Chinchilla?”

“Bunny?”

“Iguana?”

“Stop!” Matt said. “You two really want an animal in here, don’t you?”

Foggy as he perched on the edge of Karen’s desk. “What gave you that idea?”  
“Would you like me to tell you exactly how many rats I can hear in the walls at this exact moment?”

Foggy and Karen exchanged glances. “You know what, why don’t we just get a few more plants?” Karen suggested.

*

**5\. Hanky-Panky**

“Karen’s gonna yell at us,” Foggy panted as Matt loosened the knot in his tie to get better access to his neck.

Matt nipped at Foggy’s pulse. “Karen’s a block away already and getting further as we speak.”

Foggy huffed. “I can’t believe you’re hyper-sensing someone else while trying to get in my pants.”

“I wasn’t trying to get in your pants,” Matt said. He dropped his hands from Foggy’s tie to his waist and started untucking his shirt. “ _Now_ I’m trying to get in your pants.”

“I’ll have you know, counsellor, that...mm...this is a respectable place of business...oh, fuck...and these shenanigans will not stand.” Foggy’s protests would probably have sounded more assertive if he hadn’t been using a two-handed grip on Matt’s ass to haul him closer.

“They don’t have to stand,” Matt suggested. “There’s a perfectly good desk right there.”

“Ugh, that’s your worst line yet,” Foggy groaned, head tipped back. “Done. Dumped. Divorced. Fuck, do that again.”

Matt pulled back - just a few inches, but back. “I thought we were divorced.”

Foggy glared, hair wild and cheeks red. “Get back here and put your tongue back where it was.”

“But what about Karen?” Matt asked innocently.

Foggy paused. “You’re _sure_ she’s not going to walk back in for a while?”

“Positive.”

“...Fine, but we’re using _your_ desk.”


End file.
